


all of the ghouls come out to play

by mariathepenguin



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Demonic Possession, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 10:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariathepenguin/pseuds/mariathepenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry is possessed by a demon and Regina fights to get him back. Regina-centric with implied Swan Queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all of the ghouls come out to play

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this fic came from [AU gifset](http://bonestrewn.tumblr.com/post/48814838452/you-will-not-take-my-son-from-me-au-regina) by bonestrewn on tumblr. I also want to thank [Bond.Jane](http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1699212/Bond-Jane) for being an excellent beta.
> 
> Spoilers up to 2.09 Queen of Hearts
> 
> A warning: there are some vague, brief references to child abuse and marital rape.

A mother always knows when her child is hurt.

At least that’s what people say.

A mother is supposed to feel something as soon as one of her children are in danger, but the bone deep feeling of dread only starts to set in when she picks up the phone.

‘Regina.’ Emma’s voice is strained and quiet. ‘Can you come over?’

‘What’s wrong?’ She is already moving around the house, tracking down her keys and wrestling her coat on. ‘Is it Henry?’

‘Yes. He’s not hurt,’ Emma adds quickly. ‘He’s just... I think you should come over.’

Regina is already out of the door, locking it behind her and striding towards her car.

‘You’re going to have to tell me more than that, Emma.’ The car starts; the headlights cut through the dark and she roars out of the driveway.

‘I can’t. I don’t _know_ ,’ Emma says.

For all her faults, Emma is not a malicious person. If she could have told Regina more then she would have, which means that this conversation is going nowhere.

‘I’ll be there soon,’ she says, hanging up before Emma can reply.

The streets of Storybrooke are empty, as they tend to be after 10pm, and Regina doesn’t bother sticking to the speed limit.

 

***

 

Emma opens the door as soon as Regina knocks once.

‘Where is he,’ Regina demands. Emma puts her hands up.

‘Upstairs. In my room. Regina.’

She realises that her keys are cutting into the palm of her hand, and she tucks them into her pocket.

She pushes past Emma, into the apartment, and almost runs into both Snow and Charming, who are standing as if to form a rear guard behind Emma.

‘He’s fine,’ David insists. ‘You don’t need to be here.’ He is too slow to stop Regina from moving further into the apartment, towards the stairs. She catches a glimpse of Emma throwing out an arm to stop Snow from following her before she reaches the top of the stairs.

 

***

 

She knocks on the door once before pushing it open. Henry is lying on the bed, the handheld video game that she gave him last Christmas held loosely in his hands.

‘Mom!’ He puts his game down and grins.

‘Henry.’ She walks towards him and stops by the bed. ‘How are you?’

‘Fine. What are you doing here?’

‘I came to see you, Henry.’

‘Cool.’

This is the most he’s said to her since the welcome back dinner for Emma and Snow.

He reaches out and tugs at her sleeve. ‘Sit down.’ She does, and smiles

(Against a tiny, primitive part of her brain that is telling her to _leave, get out get out_ )

At her son.

‘Are you feeling alright, Henry?’

‘Duh. Why wouldn’t I be?’ She shakes her head.

‘Just checking. I worry, you know.’ He rolls his eyes.

‘Nothing’s happened since Emma and Grandma got back,’ he says. ‘It’s been totally boring.’

She can’t laugh, but she smiles harder. Henry leans into her, just a little. She strokes his hair. This close she can feel that Henry’s skin is deathly cold, but she moves closer anyway.

‘I have to go now, Henry. I have to get to bed. But I’ll see you soon, alright?’ He sighs against her, his breath raising goose bumps on her neck.

‘Okay. ’Night, mom.’

She pulls him close one more time, and strokes his hair.

This helpless love she has for him may be her undoing, someday.

She pulls back eventually, and rests her hand on his cheek.

‘Goodnight, Henry.’ He looks into her eyes and smiles, again, and she feels her own slip from her face.

She leaves the room at a measured walk and closes the door behind her. She resists the urge to look back, imagining a still-smiling Henry standing behind her, his fingers cold on the back of her neck.

Emma is still standing at the foot of the stairs, and whatever she sees on Regina’s face makes her expression crumble.

 

***

 

‘You need to tell me what you felt,’ Regina says urgently.

‘Something bad. That all I fucking know,’ Emma grits out. ‘That’s why I called _you_.’

‘Emma, please,’ Snow says. ‘What’s going on?’

Emma looks like Regina feels, like the worry is going to set her aflame any second now, but Regina watches her pull herself together to face her parents.

‘Henry... something’s in there with him.’

‘What, in the room with him?’ Emma places an arm to stop her from darting upstairs.

‘M- _Snow_ , listen. No. Not with him. In him.’ Emma darts a look at Regina for confirmation, and Regina nods reluctantly. ‘There is something in him and I don’t know what it is.’

‘Mom? Are you okay?’

They all whip around at the sound of the small voice at the top of the stairs. Henry is rubbing his eyes and looking for all the world like he is about to go to bed.

‘Stay up there, Henry,’ Emma calls out.

‘I don’t want to,’ he replies. With each step he takes down the stairs Regina feels her magic spark and tingle, turning her fingers icy cold. She swallows, hard.

‘Listen to Miss Swan, Henry,’ she says. He looks directly at her, and Snow White gasps. Henry’s eyes are blurry, indistinct, like a smudged painting. He reaches the bottom of the stairs and stops about a foot away from her.

Her magic goes into overdrive, streaming into her hands and trying its best to tug her away from this being living inside her son’s skin, but she grits her teeth and keeps still.

She is vaguely aware that Emma is still standing close to her, so close that she can feel the tension thrumming in every muscle, but her whole world has narrowed to Henry’s face.

‘What have you done with my son? Where is he?’

‘Sleeping,’ he says. ‘Don’t worry. I’m giving him nice dreams.’

‘You son of a bitch, you get out of him right now or I swear to God-’ Emma takes a step forward as she speaks, and Regina grabs on to the sleeve of her shirt to keep her back.

‘What?’ He says. ‘Are you gonna hurt us?’ He looks at Regina. ‘Are you going to hurt your little boy?’ He lunges forward, and Regina almost trips over her feet stumbling backward to get away from the numbing cold.

‘I didn’t think so.’ He laughs, and the sound scrapes at the inside of Regina’s head.

‘What do you want,’ she asks eventually. He blinks in surprise.

‘You,’ he says.

Regina gathers a stasis spell in her palm and whips it at him, flinching when it rolls off almost immediately. It’s hard to tell through his blurred eyes, but he looks disappointed.

‘That’s mean. You’re being mean.’ He slinks towards the front door.

‘Henry-’ He raises a hand and her throat closes; her hands grasp reflexively at her throat but there is nothing there. She is dimly aware of Emma choking next to her, but the small smile of satisfaction on Henry’s face makes it almost impossible to focus on anything else.

‘I don’t want to be here if you’re gonna be like that. I’ll see you later, mom.’ He waves, pulls open the door, and disappears.

 

***

 

‘Fuck,’ Emma rasps, as soon she the pressure on their throats releases. ‘Fuck, _fuck, fuck_.’ Emma picks her coat up and fumbles for her car keys. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

The whole group is nearly at the door when Regina closes it with a careless wave of her hand. Emma rounds on her, green eyes brimming with anger.

‘Regina, what the fuck? Let us out!’

‘I will, if you want to get yourself killed.’

‘Regina.’ David comes around to Emma’s other side, crowding into her space and glowering down at her.

She cannot move, cannot breathe if she thinks about what has just happened, and she pours all of her fear into the icy look she directs at David.

‘If you think you can defeat a Trickster by running off after it in the middle of the night then, please, go.’

That nasty temper that David seems to reserve specially for her rears up again, and he grabs her upper arms and pushes her into the banister.

‘You let us out of here right now. Your son’s just been taken, you poisonous-’

Her magic rips from her without warning, slamming into David and sending him tumbling over the couch. Snow rushes to his side and helps him up, and Regina sighs as her magic tingles in her fingers.

‘Attack me again,’ she says. ‘Please.’

David moves forward but Emma steps between them swiftly.

‘Both of you back off,’ she says. ‘We don’t have time for your posturing. David, stay over there. Regina, tell us what the hell is going on.’

Regina takes a moment to weigh the chances of her finding Henry by herself before she sighs in defeat. The magic gutters out and she sags against the banister.

‘I told you,’ she says tiredly. ‘It’s a Trickster; I recognised the eyes. It’s a very rare kind of demon. It latches on to the vulnerable.’

Which her son would not have been, if he had been with her. She would have kept him safer than these idiots would ever have been able to.

‘So, what, it wants to play pranks? Cause mischief?’  Snow asks. She takes a hand off David’s arm, now that he is calmer.

‘They are named for their magic, not their intentions,’ she says. ‘They use misdirection, illusion, anything they can to trick you into doing whatever they want.’

‘I don’t understand. How did it even get here?’ She raises her shoulders in a half-shrug.

‘My guess is it came in through the well. But I don’t know for sure.’

‘Okay,’ Snow says. ‘I’ll make some calls. We can get Ruby, the Dwarves, the Blue Fairy-’

‘No! Don’t call her.’

‘Why not?’

‘You wouldn’t be aware of this,’ she says acerbically, ‘but the fairies generally don’t help those they consider to be tainted by evil. Not even children.’

‘But he’s my grandson,’ Snow says. _He has to be Good_ , is the unspoken assumption. She grits her teeth, and is surprised to see Emma rolling her eyes.

‘She will not help us, not even for you, dear Snow. Not when he has that _thing_ with him. She is more likely to hurt him to save the rest of us than help him.’ Snow opens her mouth, ready to argue, but Emma interrupts.

‘Leave it,’ Emma says. ‘Besides, the fewer people know about this, the better. Right?’ Regina nods. People from Fairytale land are notorious for their mob forming abilities, as Ruby will be happy to tell them.

‘Just Ruby,’ Regina says. ‘And the Dwarves. We have to try to keep his quiet. Keep him safe.’

Something she has already failed spectacularly at, but she will not allow herself to fail again.

‘But first, I’m going to see Gold. We’re going to need his expertise.’

She releases a breath even as she says the words; her panic pushed further back with the emergence of a next step.  She can do this; she can blanket her riotous feelings with resolve, numb them and preserve them until her child is back.

 

***

 

They spend the night searching in groups of four. They sweep the streets, each empty shop and house. Ruby leads one group into the woods while Regina scans for signs of magic in front of the cemetery. Her tracking spells fail, again and again, and she tries not to think about what this means.

They search through the dark and into the dawn, Regina jumping at each sudden sound or movement until her nerves are frayed and her body feels like it is humming with adrenaline. She sees his face- the look he gave her before he left the apartment, so very Henry but also _not_ in a way that makes her want to be sick- every time she closes her eyes.

When the sun rises and the citizens of Storybrooke start to wake, they all meet at Granny’s.

 ‘Nothing,’ Snow says redundantly. ‘No sign of him.’

Everyone is tired. Strained from a night of fear and searching. One of the Dwarves has fallen asleep on the table.

‘I don’t know what else we can do, Snow,’ Grumpy says. ‘We’ve looked all night. No sign.’

‘You guys get some rest,’ Emma says. ‘There’s no point everyone being out. We can work in shifts.’

The Dwarves slowly drift away after a few protests, and Ruby slouches to the back room of the diner.

Regina watches dully as Emma pulls her parents into a corner to carry some kind of hushed conversation. They hug; Snow gripping tightly to Emma and David stroking her hair. It’s odd to see other people worrying for her son without her. All these years of just the two of them and he’s been absorbed into this elaborate family group.

Ruby walks up and places a cup of coffee in front of her, along with a stack of pancakes.

‘Thank you,’ she says, her voice raspy and cracked from too little sleep. Ruby shrugs, gives her a sympathetic look and disappears behind the counter.

Sugar isn’t something she indulges in, as a rule, but she doesn’t pause before digging into the pancakes and drinking as much of the coffee as she can without scalding herself. She doesn’t look up until the sounds of someone sliding into her booth register.

Emma is sitting opposite her, sipping on her own cup of coffee.

‘Feel better?’

She doesn’t dignify that question with an answer, settling for making her way through more of the pancakes.

‘When will your parents be back?’

‘What?’

‘I assume you have some kind of plan or shift for the rest of the search. Your parents have gone home, yes?’

‘For now,’ Emma says. ‘They’re going to brainstorm more places to look and organise another search with the Dwarves.’

‘I hope you’re not expecting me to go home and rest,’ Regina says.

‘Would you?’ Regina bristles, again.

‘Of course not. He’s my son.’ Her tone is an instant throwback to the first few fights they had when Emma first moved to Storybrooke, and Emma’s eyes blaze with annoyance, just for a second.

‘Don’t fucking start now.’ Emma puts her cup down. ‘I’m gonna do a wider sweep of the forest and the Tillman’s neighbourhood. Come, or stay if you want. I don’t care.’ She stomps out of the diner.

Regina sighs, drains her coffee, and rises to follow her.

 

***

 

They spend the rest of the morning and the afternoon splitting the search of the town between them, Emma coordinating with Snow and the rest to cover as much ground as possible.

She searches alone, for the most part, with Emma always within shouting distance. She realises that she has found her way to the edge of the new playground that she had built for Henry and the rest of the children, and she stumbles forward, easing carefully onto one of the swings.

This location had seemed like a good idea at the time, but it seems wrong now; too lonely and unguarded. She leans her head against the side of the swing, and closes her eyes, just to relieve the dry, burning feeling. Her body slumps as she allows herself to contemplate exactly how tired she is, and she feels herself drift off, her body rebelling against her and refusing to let her open her eyes.

‘Regina!’

She nearly falls off the swing when Emma comes racing through the trees. The panic in her eyes settles when she sees Regina perched on the swing, knuckles in a tight grip on the chains to stop herself from falling off completely.

‘What,’ she growls.

‘I’ve been calling your name! Are you okay?’

I’m fine,’ she says. Emma sits on the swing next to her. This close, Regina can see the strain in Emma’s expression, and in the defeated curve of her shoulder.

‘This is part of its plan, isn’t it,’ Emma says. ‘This thing is having us run around like idiots. We haven’t slept, and it’s probably found itself a nice little hole to curl up in until it feels like finding us.’

‘Probably,’ Regina agrees. She had reached this conclusion a while ago, but she still finds herself unable to actually stop and rest.

Emma sighs, defeated, and scrapes her hand through her hair, again and again. It’s a self-soothing habit that Regina has not noticed before, and she watches with interest as Emma clasps her hands together in her lap.

This woman is a far cry from the cool, in control Sheriff that she is around her parents and the rest of the town. She looks a lot more like the nervous, almost-drifter that first came to her door to return her son to her. She looks lost, as Regina is lost, as is their son.

The silence is interrupted when Emma plays with the necklace looped around her neck, making the iron pieces crash together. Emma seems oblivious to the irritated looks Regina shoots her way, threading her fingers around the cord instead, and making even more noise.

‘So, we trust these charm things Gold gave us?’

‘I couldn’t find any trace of dark magic around them. They are simply warding talismans.’ Her own rests underneath her blouse, against her skin, the magic in the necklace resonating with hers and keeping it hot against her skin.

They sit in silence for another minute, Regina running over all the spells and counter spells that Rumpelstiltskin gave her, and Emma idly kicking her feet and swinging back and forth.

They sit until the worry Regina feels starts to outweigh the calm and she gets to her feet. Emma follows suit.

‘Maybe we should stick together,’ Emma says.

Regina looks at her sharply. Emma is staring resolutely ahead, one hand still playing with her talisman.

‘It makes more sense,’ Emma adds. ‘For safety. You know what happens when people split up in movies, don’t you?’ Regina rolls her eyes.

‘You are ridiculous,’ she says. Emma shrugs in that easy, so-sue-me way she has. So Regina gestures in the direction she had been taking, and Emma falls into step beside her.

 

***

 

Finally, _finally_ , at the crypt, they sense something. Regina notices Emma reacting first, spine stiffening and hand drifting towards her belt before it washes over Regina. It’s the same cold numbness that she felt when Henry was near her before, blanketing the earth around her and making her faintly nauseous.

They had of course, checked the cemetery already, but something has clearly been in here since then, and they approach it cautiously. There is no noise at all, except for the tread of their footsteps, while they make the way through the door.

There is a brief scuffle at the door as they both try to go in first, Emma pointing to her badge and gripping onto her flashlight and Regina just shouldering her way in. Emma huffs, but clicks her flashlight on and grips on tight to Regina’s shoulder as they follow the stairs down.

When they get to the bottom, Emma flicks her flashlight around the room, and Regina reaches out and searches for any sign that there is someone else in the room with them, but it is empty, as far as she can tell.

She takes another cautious step in, shrugging Emma’s hand off her shoulder in the process. She runs her fingers across the lettering of her father’s grave. This place has always been calm, her quiet place. Now the air smells heavy, like grave dirt and slow decomposition.

‘Regina...’ Emma is still standing at the entrance, near the door. Regina turns to see her pointing her flashlight on the opposite side and illuminating a solid wall of text, shining white against the dark stone.

She can’t read it from where she is so she inches closer, throwing a glance over her shoulder to try to get rid of the prickling on the back of her neck.

Most of the writing seems like gibberish, nonsense words strung together, but Emma swings her torch to the right and Regina’s breath catches in her throat.

_Help me help_ is written in Henry’s scrawl, the words drooping downwards like they used to when he was just learning to write.

_Come home. Come home come home come home_ is what she sees next, tucked under Henry’s handwriting, the words strong and compulsively neat. The white of them sears into her eyes.

Emma makes a sick sound next to her. Regina can only see her outline in this dark, but her free hand is pressed to her mouth and she can hear her harsh pants in the quiet of the room. The light from the flashlight starts to shake and Regina grabs it from her, keeping the light steady on the wall.

There is nothing else of help on the wall. Nothing else to show her the way except for the short, desperate scrawling hidden in the corner.

_Him, first_ , she reminds the hysteria that is attempting to bubble up into her consciousness.

She grabs the stunned Sheriff by the wrist, squeezing until she hears a small yelp of pain, and she pulls them both up out of the stairs, out of the crypt and across the cemetery to where Emma’s car is sitting.

 

***

 

Emma parks her car a few blocks away from Regina’s home and takes a breath.

‘Ready?’ Emma asks. She doesn’t wait for an answer, stepping out of the car and meeting Regina on the sidewalk.

They stalk silently towards her house, keeping in the shadows and stopping at every loud noise. Regina nearly jumps out of her skin when Emma’s phone chimes from her pocket.

‘Sorry,’ Emma whispers as she pulls the phone out. She glances at the display and frowns. ‘Snow says they’re ten minutes away. She says to wait.’

Regina scowls, and ducks behind the large bushes around the walkway to her front door.

Her house is dark. Which is surprising, because she is sure that she left the light in the upstairs room when she had left the day before.

‘He’s here,’ she mutters to Emma. Emma frowns.

‘How do-’

The windows flash like there is a lightning storm in the house and a figure appears in one of the downstairs window. Her heart lurches and she steps forward, onto the path to her house.

Henry has his hands pressed against the windows. She can see- she’s not sure how- but she can see his breath fogging up the glass- he locks eyes with her and she sees something- maybe shock, maybe relief, she isn’t sure. He screams, high pitched and terrified.

She is running before she can stop herself, reaching her front door and clawing at the handle. The door resists her attempts to shove it open, and Emma catches up to her in the time it takes her to blast it open.

Regina takes a deep breath, and steps into the pitch black house.

 

***

 

Now that she is in the house, she curses herself from her impulsiveness. She whips around to see that the front door has disappeared, leaving smooth wall in its place.

‘Crap,’ Emma mutters next to her. She grabs her flashlight and switches it on, illuminating the hallway and stairs. The light hits the room unevenly, throwing shifting shadows everywhere she looks.

‘I think he was in the study,’ she says quietly. Emma nods and leads the way, while Regina runs over the spells that Rumpelstiltskin gave her.

_‘Does the boy have magic?’_

_‘No.’_

_‘Are you sure?’_

_‘Yes!’_

_‘Good.’ He pulls out a small book from his bookshelf. The way he handles it is at odds with its size and general shabby appearance, and she takes it from him carefully. She looks at him questioningly, and he nods._

_‘Elemental magic,’ he confirms._

_‘Could someone please tell me what’s going on?’ Regina had forgotten that Emma and Snow were there at all, and she scowls as Emma stalks forward. Luckily, Rumpel answers for her._

_‘A Trickster is a magical being. It is made of dark magic, and it has magic of its own. Henry has no magic. Spells that focus purely on magical attacks should harm only the demon.’_

_‘Should?’_

_‘Will,’ he amends, breaking eye contact to glance at Regina. ‘Elemental magic does not draw on its surroundings or use them in any way. There is no physical aspect to it. Nothing that will hurt Henry. It is, of course, more difficult.’_

_Emma stares at Regina, who is gripping the book so hard her knuckles pale._

_‘Can you do it?’_

_‘Of course she can,’ Rumpel answers smoothly. ‘She was always my best student.’_

They spot him as soon as they reach the study. He is reclining on her office chair, his feet up on her desk. He smiles when he sees them.

‘Hi, guys,’ he says happily. Emma shines the flashlight over his face.

Its mask is slipping. The blur that is Henry’s eyes has intensified, turning them into an oil slick of blackness that drips down his cheeks. His voice is different too, rattling in his chest like he has a cold.

Regina doesn’t have to look behind her to know that the door has disappeared, that they are trapped in here until it decides to release them, so she takes a step forward.

‘Tell me what you want. Tell me why you brought us here.’ Henry tilts his head to the side.

‘I told you.’

‘You’re lying,’ she says immediately. Henry shrugs.

‘I don’t think you’re ready to talk more right now. You seem a little angry.’ He hops out of her chair and walks towards her. He opens his mouth to say something else, but Regina attacks before he can.

This kind of magic drains her much faster than the ordinary kind, but she grits her teeth and watches with relief as he stops, then sways, then drops to his knees on the carpet. She finally stops when he keels over and falls over onto his side on the tiled floor.

‘Ow,’ he whimpers when his head hits the floor. She turns off the flow of magic.

‘Henry?’

He grimaces as he sits up. ‘I asked you to stop being mean.’

He raises an arm, and the world explodes around them.

 

***

 

She opens her eyes to a room, many times bigger than her study. It has the same monochrome decorations and mirrored walls, but the floor dips and ripples like she is seeing it through water.

‘You need to stop fighting,’ it says. Henry’s face looks back to normal, save for his eyes. She tries to look away, to find her bearings, but too-strong fingers grab her chin and keep her still. Its icy touch sears into her skin.

She flicks her eyes away, catching her reflection in one of the mirrors. She looks the same, but the other figure in the mirror isn’t Henry. It’s a hunched, skeletal thing with long, thin hair that reaches past its shoulders.

She lets out a cry of surprise, wheeling back to try to break free of it, but it only holds tighter, pulling her down. She can see that it’s delighting in the fear that it is pulling from her, and she manages to wrench herself free.

A breath, and Cora is in front of her.

‘My darling daughter,’ she says. ‘You never did learn.’

Ropes wrap around her midsection and torso and pull her into the air.

‘I tried so hard to make you strong.’

‘I _am_ strong.’ She burns through the ropes and drops heavily to the floor. Her hands come up and draw a symbol in the air. Cora catches fire and burns away to reveal Henry, eyes still burning dark, but standing tall.

‘Give me back my son,’ she wheezes.

‘No,’ it answers. The glass mirrors shatter and the shards fly towards her. Rumpelstiltskin’s talisman blocks most of them, although a few manage to sneak through and slash through her skin. She hisses in pain.

_Focus,_ she reminds herself. Another symbol, two, three and she throws them all at the creature. Her magic hits it and it shrieks. She watches in horror as boils erupt over Henry’s skin.

_Not real_ , she reminds herself. _None of this is real_.

It laughs. ‘Clever, clever witch. With your tricky little spells. But you forget.’

Suddenly she is in Leopold’s chambers, grasping tightly to the material of her wedding dress.

A door opens and Leopold walks in from an adjoining room, already in his nightshirt.

‘No,’ she says. Her head swims. She takes a step backwards and the backs of her knees bump against the bed. ‘Stop.’ She cannot raise her arms to perform a spell, she cannot remember any of the words that Rumpelstiltskin taught her.

Leopold smiles, and walks towards her.

‘Wife.’

She can’t move, or breathe, or think, so she squeezes her eyes shut until she can feel his breath on her face. She opens her eyes and bites back a sob of relief to see that he is gone, that she is alone.

And then she isn’t and she is staring as her son’s mouth twists cruelly in front of her.

‘You forget. You are not strong. You can’t save me.’

‘I can.’ She will. She has to.

He laughs. And then he is Cora, loving and terrible and smiling in that way that always made Regina’s skin feel too tight around her face.

‘Love is weakness,’ Cora says. ‘And you stink of it.’

‘You need to stop saying that,’ a tired voice says from behind her, and Leopold’s chambers shimmer away. A hand slips into hers and she holds tight.

‘Regina,’ Emma says. ‘Don’t listen. Just try again.’

Regina wants to tell her that she is done, that the spells that she used should have laid it low enough to let them kill it, but there is a curious warmth that is starting to spread from their joined hands, up her arm and into her chest, boosting her almost depleted stores of energy.

‘Get ready,’ she says instead. She thinks of pure, clean magic; of power rippling from her and sinking into the essence of this creature. She holds onto the power for one painful moment before letting it go.

The room fills with blinding white, and the creature howls.

 

***

 

She opens her eyes to find that they are back in her study, and she is lying on what feels like one of her broken bookshelves. It looks like everything in her study that can be broken, has been. She tries to move and bites back a groan when all the muscles in her body protest.

‘Henry,’ she croaks, after a few failed tries. It should be weak, it should be vulnerable now, if she could only sit up-

Her heart fails when she sees Henry standing in the corner of the room. The moonlight filtering in through the broken window is the only source of light, and it throws his face into sharp relief.

His face is longer, and thinner, and he watches her with an unflinching, predatory gaze.

‘Are you ready now?’ It asks.

Her eyes slip closed.

‘Yes.’

‘Ask me, then.’

She says the one thing Rumpelstiltskin had made her swear not to.

‘I want to make a deal.’

 

***

 

It is flickering between Henry’s body and its own form, changing every time she blinks.

Henry smiles softly at her. His hand touches her cheek.

Blink.

It bares its teeth and shuffles closer. It lays a serrated claw against her cheek.

‘I want your magic.’

Blink.

Her boy tucks his hands into her pockets in the same way she does. He pouts.

Blink.

A rictus grin over her face. Rotting breath slipping from its mouth into her lungs.

‘You... shine, Regina. I could see it all the way from the other world. And that death curse.’ It leans closer, breathing her in. She sobs.

‘That death curse. With your magic. It sang to me. It tastes like. Your son would say it tastes like an ice cream sundae.’

She blinks. Henry smiles at her. She closes her eyes.

‘I say it tastes like power. And you are going to give it to me.’

‘I will not,’ she manages. A creature like this with her magic could rip a hole in the world. It would kill every creature on this world, if it pleased. It could kill Henry with a thought.

‘You will. Because you are here. Because you came for him. Because I have him. I will wake him and make him scream, Regina. I will make him scream your name.’

She quails at the thought of the pain and almost certain death that will come with giving up her magic, but she steels herself. Because love is her weakness. But she can use it to save Henry. She can set him free.

‘If I agree to this, you have to swear to let him go permanently, and that you will not harm him.’

‘Upon completion of the transfer of your magic, I swear to permanently relinquish the body of your son Henry. I further swear never to cause him any direct harm. Deal?’

She pauses for a second, rethinking all her options and coming up blank. It waits patiently.

‘Deal.’ There is an objecting groan from somewhere in the direction of her desk, but she ignores it in favour of watching the demon that is hovering above her face.

 

***

 

She takes a breath and sits up, leaning against a wall and trying to ignore the shooting pains down her torso.

‘You’re going to need to take that off,’ it says, pointing to the talisman that has slipped out of her shirt.

She does, missing the comforting warmth as it leaves her skin. She balls it up in her hands and tosses it weakly away from her, wincing as it clatters on the tile.

‘Give me your hand,’ it says, and she lays it in its bony hand.

She feels it start to pull at her magic, a loose thread at the centre of her being that is being tugged out, unravelling her. She chokes out a groan as pain starts to snake its way through her system, settling into a deep ache that makes her try to squirm away. It only holds tighter.

It is no longer changing back to Henry’s face, and its own features are sharper and more defined. More solid. She realises that it is already leaning out of her son’s body, unable to resist the lure of her magic.

She tries to push it back, but it only chuckles and wraps its other hand around her neck, forcing her back against the wall.

‘Now, we made a deal,’ it says. ‘Don’t try to back away now.’

It pulls at her magic again and she tries to scream but the sound is stopped by the claws around her throat.

There is a flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye and suddenly Emma is there, wrapping something around its neck and dragging it off her.

It screeches and twists as the skin around the object- Emma’s talisman, Regina realises- starts to bubble and smoke.

Emma’s touch had started the hat and boosted her magic and Regina can _feel_ it. The same magic that helped her start the hat and boosted her magic is now eating its way through bone.

‘Regina!’ Emma roars. ‘I can’t hold it!’

She snaps back to attention and scrambles for the words to the banishment spell.

‘Alal,’ she starts slowly. The words feel foreign on her tongue. ‘Alla Xul.’

It growls and kicks out at her face, but she ducks out of the way. She can feel the beginning of a smirk form on her face as she raises her voice.

Her fingers form the symbols that signify the words she is speaking, casting a brilliant white net and floats in the air, closer and closer to Emma and the demon. It screeches again and tries desperately to twist away from Emma, but she holds it tight.

This is old magic; older than the Dark One, too old to belong to humans. The demon groans as Regina continues speaking, the words sparking off her tongue.

‘-harrani sa alaktasu la tarat,’ she finishes. She draws a final sigil in the air, sealing the spell, and it drapes over the demon, coating it with a thousand glimmering fibres before it tightens quickly, squeezing itself down to nothing and taking the demon with it.

 

***

 

She pushes herself to her feet and hobbles to where Henry is lying still on the ground.

‘Henry,’ she says, kneeling and pressing her hand over his chest. She can feel his heart beat and warm skin beneath his ratty t shirt and she rocks back on her heels, weak with relief.

‘Hey, kid.’ Emma is on his other side, gently shaking his shoulder. ‘Kid. Wake up.’

There is a long second where Regina is terrified that the demon had lied about not harming Henry. That it damaged him permanently before leaving, but Henry cracks his eyes open.

‘Mom,’ he croaks.’ What’s happening? Where am I-’ his words are cut off by Regina pulling him up and into her arms, holding him tight against her. Emma’s hands go around him too, pinning him between them, but Regina doesn’t mind. If the price she has to pay for having her son back is having Emma’s arms around her too and the shoulder of Emma’s jacket pressed into her face, soaking up her tears, then she will pay it gladly.

Henry eventually wriggles out of their arms and looks around. ‘What happened to your office?’

She can’t find the words to explain to him what happened, and she is almost grateful when Snow and David burst through the door.

‘Emma! Henry!’ Snow pulls them both off the floor and hugs them tight, and Charming joins in, his large frame easily sweeping them all up.

Snow catches Regina’s eye over Emma’s shoulder and she gives her a small nod. It’s not a thank you, but it’s as close as Snow will ever give her

‘Let’s get out of here,’ David says, scooping up a sleepy-looking Henry into his arms and starting to carry him out of the study.

‘No,’ she says, softer, then a little louder when they don’t stop. ‘Don’t... don’t take him.’ She struggles to her feet. The thought of him leaving her right now makes her feel weak and stronger all at once, and she takes a few determined steps in their direction.

‘Regina,’ David says. ‘He needs to rest.’

‘He needs to be with me,’ she says, only barely tamping down on the panic that is screaming at her to yank her son out of his arms.

Not that she could, right now. Truthfully, everything is starting to look a little fuzzy, but she can ignore that.

‘David,’ Emma intervenes. ‘Why don’t you put Henry on the couch in the living room.  Snow, you could make us some coffee?’

They turn to her, mouths agape. ‘Emma, maybe-’

‘It’s the middle of the night,’ Emma sighs. ‘Henry’s exhausted. We all are. Do you really want to take him away from the woman who just saved his life?’

Emma’s parents share a long look with each other before David nods reluctantly. ‘Fine,’ he says, and he leads Snow out of the room.

Regina closes her eyes in relief and sways in place. Now that the adrenaline rush is fading she wants nothing more than to find somewhere to lie down. She starts when an arm slips around her waist.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Keeping you upright. You looked a little woozy.’

‘Let go of me.’ Her words are weakened by the fact that she is leaning heavily against Emma and Emma ignores her, steering them towards the door instead.

‘Careful,’ she snipes, when they bump into what looks like the remains of her ottoman.

‘Sure, Regina,’ Emma says. She guides them through the door, and Regina doesn’t have to lift her head from Emma’s surprisingly comfortable shoulder to know that she’s rolling her eyes.

 

***

 

Regina sits on a park bench and watches Henry talk to Paige and Ava on the playground. It’s a miserable windy day, and she huddles into her coat as the children start to laugh.

In the two weeks since they got rid of the demon Regina has preferred to stay inside, concentrating on strengthening the wards around both her house and the Charmings’ apartment. But Henry asked her to go to the park with him today, and it’s even harder to refuse him now.

So here she is, at the park with a book she can’t remember the name of clutched in her hand while she watches Henry talk to his friends.

‘Hi.’ She jumps.

‘Miss Swan.’

‘Emma,’ she corrects, sitting down next to Regina.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘This is my patrol route. I thought you had that kind of stuff memorised.’

‘Hardly, Sheriff,’ she says. She glances at Henry, who has made a point of looking away. ‘I had better things to do.’

Emma falls silent, and they watch Henry show his friends something on his brand new phone. There’s a young family having an ill-advised picnic under a tree and Emma chuckles quietly when the wind blows their plate of sandwiches over.

Regina studies her face, the new lines scored into the skin at her temple. She wants to ask Emma whether she has been having trouble sleeping, like Regina has. If she can still sometimes hear a death rattle when she’s alone. She wants to know if she hesitates before entering a dark room, like Regina sometimes does. But she can’t.

‘What?’ Emma lets out an uncomfortable laugh, and Regina looks away.

‘I just... wanted to ask you how you think Henry is coping.’

‘He seems quieter,’ Emma says. ‘A little sad, sometimes.’

Henry told them that he didn’t remember anything at all; that he felt like he had been asleep, but the way he looks at her when he thinks she can’t see, or hugs her when he leaves to spend time with Emma makes her think that he might remember more than he’s telling.

She wanted her son to love her; to understand her better, but not this way.

Her thoughts are interrupted by Emma.

‘He’ll be okay,’ Emma says. ‘We’ll help him. Archie will help him.’

Regina lets out a shaky breath. Emma’s right. Henry has a far reaching support system that will keep him safe, and happy.

A particularly cold gust of wind blows past and Emma shivers and huddles closer. Regina stares incredulously.

‘Honestly, Miss Swan-’

‘Emma.’

‘Emma-’

‘It’s cold. And, despite what the Dwarves say, you are not actually an ice queen. So just, stay still.’

She does. She takes a moment to appreciate the Evil Queen and the Saviour huddled together on a bench, watching their son pretend not to watch them.

‘This doesn’t make us friends,’ she says, eventually. Emma wrinkles her nose.

‘I don’t really do friends. Apart from my mom, I guess. God, that’s sad.’

Regina smiles despite herself.

‘It is, a bit.’

Emma sorts of swats at her side in retaliation, and her hand just stays there, curled around Regina’s arm.

‘Miss Swan-’

‘ _Emma_.’ Emma smiles; Regina finds herself thawing. Ice Queen, indeed. She tries to scowl, and fails.

‘You’re ridiculous.’

‘You said that already. Look how cute our kid is being.’

Regina follows her gaze to where Henry is standing alone with Ava. She watches as he hands her what looks like a flower from one of the bushes behind them. Ava smiles and tucks it into her hair, and Henry tucks his hands into his pockets.

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah,’ Emma says.

Emma leans back and Regina goes with her, because Emma is warm and Regina is tired, and the hand hooked into her arm is pulling her into a kind of peace that she hasn’t felt in years, since Henry was small.

‘It was always just us. Me and him,’ she says quietly. ‘I’ve never had anyone to help me fight for him before.’

‘Well.’ Emma’s hand tightens and pulls her just the smallest bit closer. ‘You’re not alone anymore.’

Henry turns around and waves at them, and Regina gives a lazy wave back.

‘No,’ she says. ‘I suppose I’m not.’


End file.
